Wildlife, not a wild life

Wildlife, not a wild life
A vegetarian, I guess.



OK- it was a quiet day with no car.

Steve over-scheduled himself- podcast, massage, bike ride, pick up the car via the Electra two wheeler.  I only had one chore:  buy some groceries since I will be here alone , with only my ridiculous legs, during Steve’s Chicago Bears, Culture yogurt blitz tomorrow.

I puttered with the patio furniture, read, cleaned a bit and played with the dogs.  I also blackmailed Steve into going out to dinner tonight, to assuage his guilt for leaving me.  Off we went to the Bentwood Tavern, where we ate sensibly, and I observed Steve’s rule against desserts in public.  We made it home for sunset.

Though I managed to extract a dinner invitation from Steve based on abandonment issues,  I do not mind being alone. I just like to dine out.  Steve- not so much.  I will have a lovely day here at the lake.  I am an expert time waster.

I COULD walk into town to shop and waste time. I checked it today.  It is one mile.  I also bought a knee brace, just in case.  But it is supposed to be hot.

I COULD let the dogs be dogs and swim in Lake Michigan.  Then they would be wet, smelly dogs, but Steve would not be here to be chagrined.  I may.

I COULD screw the dogs, grab a noodle and paddle in the pool, since there are no judging eyes around to note my plumpness.  This has appeal.

I COULD do a deep clean of this place.  I am somewhat bug-fixated, and there are always webs from spiders, and remains from all sorts of little beasts.  Even if I emptied all cabinets and vacuumed every corner, I would be finished in a few hours.  I won’t.

I WILL read the end of The Paris Wife, which is killing me with its inevitable divorce and Ernest Hemingway’s ultimate suicide.  This is Wife #1, mind you. I am comforted by the fact that Hadley knows her husband is a tortured artist.  She is creating an exit strategy.  I am not sure I can read about the next three Mrs. Hemingways.

I WILL enjoy the waning solitude before the throngs return for the last weekend of summer.  Turns out, I like the quiet life.  Our complex is all but deserted.  I have two strapping dogs for company and security.  However,  they seem to be vacationing from  any guard duties.  The image that accompanies this blog is a fat, waddling groundhog that visited us today.  He was 5 feet from the sliding door.  The dogs just sat there and watched him eat the remains of my flowers. There is evidence that he is eating the deck, too.  Either Mabel and Milly are lazy, or they are kindred spirits with this overblown rat.

When Steve and I returned from dinner, a little doe was grazing on our way to the condo.  I took pictures, and they are pathetic, but I am adding one to the vacation scrapbook, along with tonight’s sunset.  Steve, ever the pro, took and edited a slow motion movie of our close encounter with Bambi.  Check it out….here.

I hope you are enjoying our vacation…..I love sharing it.


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